Charlotte breathes a sigh of relief as she and Amelia enter the large entrance hall of the Carlyle Hotel, thankful for a respite from the frigid city streets. She doesn’t have much time to enjoy the warmth of the lobby before her boss is striding towards the restaurant entrance, her blond hair standing out among the dark color scheme of the room. Charlotte scurries after her, catching up to her just in time to hear her say:
“…and I don’t want a table next to a wall. One of the center tables. Yes.”
The host smiles tightly, bidding them to follow him as he guides them into the opulent dining room. An older, dustier crowd dominates with some young European eye candy speckled throughout and Charlotte can’t help but feel slightly out of place in the shoes she bought at Macy’s three years ago. Amelia shines like porcelain in crisp white linen and dark gray cashmere, six inch stilettos pushing her already regal height into the stratosphere.
The host seats them in an elegant room furnished with pillow-sprinkled banquets and fortuny fabric covered walls, sconces illuminating the corners while large windows belayed in heavy drapery allow the early afternoon sun to shine feebly through all the fabric.
Charlotte lowers herself cautiously onto one of the large cushioned seats set around impeccably set, cloth covered tables, fearing that the cushion may just swallow her whole. But it’s surprisingly stiff and does not yield to her weight and she finds this oddly fitting for a place of such high attitude. Amelia slides onto her own cushioned chair and settles a bit before unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap. Charlotte follows suit as she always does when Amelia insists on having lunch out.
Since taking this job, Charlotte has accompanied Amelia to lunch only a few times, usually business lunches where she took notes while the others ate. But this was the first time she had been invited to lunch with Amelia and only Amelia. Charlotte had at first thought Amelia was talking to Kaitie when she stepped out of her office and asked her to join her for lunch. Much to her (and Kaitie’s) surprise it was Charlotte that Amelia wanted to dine with. Charlotte was terrified. Kaitie was livid.
It seemed to be Kaitie’s goal in life to be Amelia’s best friend and confidant where as Charlotte was simply content doing her job. Frankly, any situation that involved herself and Amelia in a social setting seemed utterly ludicrous to Charlotte because she would never dream of seeing the inside of VIP and Amelia wouldn’t be caught dead in the Bronx.
“So Charlotte…” Amelia says as she opens her menu. “How are you liking the job so far?”
“Um,” Charlotte responds dumbly, opening her own menu and nearly choking at the sight of the prices. 50 dollars for fish? “I like it. I really do.”
“You’re getting on okay?” Amelia asks, peering over her menu at Charlotte. “No one giving you any trouble?”
“Oh no of course not,” Charlotte says smiling while running over every tedious errand Katie has had her run over the past several weeks.
Amelia eyes her. “Good.”
The waiter steps over, setting glasses of water in front of them and is just about to open his mouth to speak but before he can get a word out Amelia snaps her menu shut and looks up at him.
“I’d like a bottle of Perrier, don’t open it I can do it myself, and a cup of coffee, real coffee not espresso, black but I would like Equal on the side, not sugar, Equal. In the blue packets,” She turns to Charlotte who is staring at her slack jawed and looks at her expectantly
Charlotte snaps her mouth shut and then stutters, “Um…coke is fine.”
“Diet?” the waiter asks eyeing her and Charlotte blinks at him.
“Did she say diet?” Amelia asks, her eyes cutting him and Charlotte swears that she can see his Adam’s apple bob.
“N-no,” he stutters and Amelia gives him a tight smile.
“Then no, she doesn’t want diet,” Amelia opens her menu again, muttering “God only knows why...” Charlotte shifts uncomfortably and the waiter looks down at Amelia, clutching his notepad nervously. Amelia glances up at him and sighs. “That’s all.”
The waiter scurries off and Amelia turns to Charlotte, her face softening into a more pleasant expression as she peruses her menu. Charlotte looks around awkwardly, taking in the posh setting and the older debutants in their finery. She meets eyes with a man about her age sitting at a table with an older lady who could quite possibly be his grandmother but with the way he’s holding her hand Charlotte is relatively sure it’s not his grandmother. She looks away quickly lest he think her judging him, taking a sip of her water and looking the other direction.
“I ran into Anderson Cripps yesterday” Amelia says and Charlotte nearly chokes at the mention of her former boss’s name.
She swallows hard. “Really?”
“Yes,” Amelia says, eyeing her from over her menu. “He had nothing but glowing things to say about you.”
Charlotte blinks. This is going somewhere she’s sure. Amelia is very good at working her way into conversations and then dropping a bomb meant to daze the other person into divulging information they hadn’t wanted to reveal. Charlotte had seen her do it to Justin on so many occasions it was almost nauseating. Amelia would ask innocuous question after innocuous question until he thought he was safe and then she’d hit him with something hard and the poor bastard would stutter and fumble through excuses while Amelia ticked off more questions until he was so confused he agreed to whatever it was she wanted. He would walk away dazed and slightly bewildered, wondering how he had gotten himself so turned around. Charlotte tried to ready herself for whatever was coming.
“You left several months ago,” Amelia says offhandedly, her eyes flitting to Charlotte from over the top of her menu.
Even though this is simply an observational statement Charlotte can hear the question in the undertones. What were you doing in between jobs?
“Yes,” Charlotte responds, doing her best to ignore the underlying question. Amelia eyes her. No one ignores Amelia’s questions, underlying or not.
“Spending time in Europe?” she questions, smiling slightly and Charlotte laughs good naturedly. Where were you when you weren’t working? Don’t make me flat out ask you.
“I wish,” she replies. “I went home for a little while.” Charlotte’s stomach clenches. Why did she mention that?
Amelia pounces. “And where is home?”
“Pennsylvania,” Charlotte responds, shifting slightly, watching Amelia’s face from the corner of her eye but she betrays nothing.
“Pittsburgh?” You seem like the poor steel worker’s daughter type.
“Close. Cannonsburg. Just a little outside of Pittsburgh,”
“And what do your parents do?” Just how poor are you?
“My father worked in the coalmines,” Charlotte says, praying that Amelia doesn’t ask…
“And your mother?”
“Homemaker,” Charlotte says, the word bitter on her tongue. Nothing is more deplorable to a woman like Amelia than a stay at home mom.
Amelia’s head snaps up but her face betrays nothing. “Well isn’t that adorable? You’re an only child?” You must be on that salary.
“No actually,” Charlotte replies, shifting awkwardly. “Youngest of three. Only girl.”
The waiter returns with their drinks and Charlotte breathes a sigh of relief as he sets them silently on the table. Charlotte snatches her drink, taking a sip, cringing as the fake sugar hits her tongue. Diet.
“Are you ready to order?” he asks as jovially as possible though his apprehension at having to take Amelia’s order is quite evident.
“I’ll have the Dover Sole, braised in champagne, the good champagne not the usual champagne you use for lunch. I would liked steamed asparagus with that and please make sure its crunchy, if its soft I’ll send it back so get it right the first time. And jasmine rice.” Amelia snaps her menu shut and holds it out to him, sighing while he frantically scribbles down her order and doesn’t take it right away.
“And for you miss?” he asks, looking at Charlotte in a way that says “please god be normal.”
“Um,” Charlotte looks down at the menu. She hadn’t even had time to make a choice, having been too busy playing 20 Questions with Amelia. “I guess…uh…I’ll…I’ll have the same.”
The waiter gives her a curt nod before taking her menu and working through the maze of tables, putting as much distance between himself and them as possible. Who could blame him?
“What made you decide on finance at NYU?” Amelia asks, picking up right where they left off.
Charlotte can feel herself beginning to sweat. “Well, there’s good money in it.”
“Especially if you’re working at Gauge-Whitney,” Amelia replies “Were you close with Anderson?” Amelia asks casually. Did you sleep with him?
And there it was. Amelia thinks she quit because of some interoffice affair. Good guess. Anderson’s reputation as a savvy market analyst was only eclipsed by his reputation as a man-whore. His wife must either be blind or stupid.
“Not really. He was just my boss,” Charlotte responds, smiling. There was something oddly freeing about leaving Amelia wanting. Probably because it rarely ever happened. Time to turn the tables. “You must be excited to be getting married.”
Amelia looks at her slightly bewildered but then gives her a small smile. Okay we’ll call this one a draw. For now. “Yes, there’s a lot to do.”
“Justin seems like a great guy,” Charlotte responds and she means it.
Amelia wasn’t kidding when she said Charlotte’s main job would be ferrying information back and forth between herself and her fiancé. Charlotte made at least four trips a day to Justin’s office, often bearing the brunt of bad news or some crazy demand of Amelia’s. But he was always the gentleman, charming and witty, quick with a joke and a smile, sometimes a wink if he was feeling particularly cheeky that day. Although she couldn’t really get past the fact that he let Amelia walk all over him, Charlotte was really beginning to see that it was impossible not to adore Justin. He was goofy and at times utterly helpless but he always managed to make her laugh which was refreshing after spending the day with Amelia who didn’t seem to find anything remotely humorous ever.
“He is,” Amelia responds coolly, stirring the sugar into her coffee slowly, watching it swirl and dissipate into the hot liquid.
Charlotte often wondered what they saw in each other. They were complete opposites. Everything about Justin seemed to annoy Amelia and Justin had to be sick of her tantrums by now. But they were getting married. There had to be some reason.
“How did the two of you meet?” Charlotte prods gently, taking another sip of her soda, cringing again when she forgets that its diet.
“Through my father,” Amelia replies, bringing her coffee cup to her lips. “I was a young, up and comer in the A&R department at Daddy’s label and Justin was doing some production work with some of our artists.”
“How long have you guys been together?” Charlotte asks carefully. She’s not exactly sure how long this glimpse into Amelia’s character will last so she’s trying to tread lightly.
“Oh good lord,” Amelia says, squinting as she looks to the ceiling, thinking. “Three? Yes about three. He was just getting off that godforsaken tour, doing movies.” Amelia opens her bottle of Perrier making a face as she adds, “Thank God he got over all of that.”
“He doesn’t do much with his own career any more huh?” Charlotte asks, thinking more to herself but Amelia responds bluntly.
“He has his career.” Amelia’s eyes cut Charlotte and she looks down chastised. “It’s just more on the business end now. He likes it.” Amelia nods assuredly.
“You two seem so…” Charlotte pauses searching for the words. “terrible for each other” are the only ones that are coming to mind.
“Different?” Amelia supplies for her with a smile. “Yeah, I’ve grown up a lot since we got together. Justin…” she pauses shaking her head and sighing. “not so much. I’m hoping he changes a little once we get married.”
“How do you mean,” Charlotte asks before she can stop herself. What’s so wrong with the way he is now?
“Just…I dunno, Amelia says sighing as she sets her coffee cup down. “He’s just such a child sometimes. He’s constantly getting himself into messes. He never takes anything seriously.” Amelia shakes her head and Charlotte can’t help but think these are things she likes about Justin. “And he’s a huge flirt.”
Charlotte is silent at this. Amelia smirks.
“Don’t think I don’t know how he is,” Amelia replies slyly, and then she leans towards Charlotte in a conspiratory way, causing Charlotte to lean in as well. “Why do you think I hired that bimbo wedding planner?”
Charlotte’s jaw drops and Amelia laughs.
“Really Charlotte! Patti is far from the best wedding planner in the city.” Amelia shakes her heard sighing. “But she’s a curvy brunette and Justin likes curvy brunettes.” Amelia smoothes a hand over her perfectly coiffed blond locks and her gaze catches on Charlotte, her eyes narrowing just slightly before grinning. “You know he probably likes you too.”
Charlotte’s eyes widen, a tremor of panic shaking through her. She doesn’t know what to say. Would “thank you” be an appropriate response? Or maybe a vehement denial?
The waiter approaches with their food, Charlotte breathing a sigh of relief at the fact that she doesn’t have to answer. She nearly jumps out of her chair when she sees that her lunch is staring back at her, the large fish braised but still containing its head and tail. She looks to Amelia who is reaching for the pepper and watches as she sprinkles her own dead fish with seasoning before digging her fork into its body, continuing on.
“But she’s got a nice ass. And if there’s one thing Justin cannot resist it’s a nice ass.”
“You’re…you’re setting him up?” Charlotte asks, slightly unbelieving and Amelia lets out a small cough of a laugh.
“It’s a simple test,” Amelia replies bringing her fork to her lips. “He’s done well so far,” she frowns. “The flirting is getting more intense but as far as I know nothing’s happened.” She sets her fork down, looking at Charlotte pointedly. “And I always know.”
